Bring Me Clarity
by Tropical Medlies
Summary: There weren't sparks. There were full-on fireworks. One-shot.


_she is everything i want that i never knew i needed_

Imogen squinted in the near darkness of the room, keeping her movements as minute as possible as she inched towards the end of the queen-sized bed she was sharing with Fiona for the night. When her outstretched arm finally hit the edge of the mattress, she edged off of it, trying to keep the dip from reaching the other side of the bed so that her girlfriend didn't wake up, too.

Her feet hit the hardwood floor and she smiled, congratulating herself on a job well done as she grabbed her glasses from the nightstand. Behind her, Fiona rolled over, muttering something sleepily and curling into a ball in the warm spot Imogen had left behind. Throwing a furtive look over her shoulder and feeling slightly guilty for leaving her girlfriend alone, Imogen crept out of the room and into the kitchen of the loft, searching through the cabinets to find some of the good Swiss hot chocolate that she knew was stored in there somewhere.

Fifteen minutes and one burned finger later (she had exercised every ounce of self control not to let out an extremely loud "Shit!" when she had spilled hot water over her thumb), Imogen was back in Fiona's bedroom, sitting in the window that connected to the fire escape and looking over the view of the city the loft afforded her. There was a creak as Fiona shifted in the bed again and Imogen's attention shifted to her, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Fiona had never been in her plans. She had always imagined herself finding a boy who was equally as eccentric and passionate about acting as she was, maybe in college, and settling down with him somewhere and having a kid or two. (That was if she even wanted to settle down in a few years' time. She wavered on that, because she didn't want to end up like her mom, realizing her mistake a few years too late and leaving her family because of it.) She had searched and searched, never quite finding the right person, hoping against all odds that she had when Eli had walked into her life. She knew that the chances of finding the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with in high school were slim to none, but she still tried.

The spark wasn't there. She forced herself to the point of becoming obsessed with him, but no amount of stalking him could make feelings that weren't there become real. So she had given up, decided that they were better off as friends, and chose to let the chips fall where they may from then on. Someday some nice boy would come into her life, the sparks would fly then, and they would live happily ever after because she deserved that much. She deserved to be happy and it would happen.

But Fiona? Fiona wasn't a nice boy, it wasn't the future, and there weren't sparks. There were full-on fireworks, once Imogen got close enough to realize it. She had to admit, if she was ever going to fall for a girl she was glad it was Fiona. Sweet, funny, smart, beautiful Fiona, who treated Imogen like she was made of glass and deserved the best that money could buy, even if she didn't much of it anymore. Imogen had seen Fiona sacrifice a paycheck more than once to take her out on a date "just because," and she knew deep down that not a lot of girls got lucky enough to be in a relationship like that. Fiona didn't let a day go by without letting Imogen know how important or loved she was in some way, and she still managed to make Imogen's heart do funny things when doing the simplest of things.

It had gotten to the point where Imogen didn't even know what to do with herself anymore now that she had Fiona. They had only been dating for seven months (she counted from December to July regardless of their making things "official" in January. Hell, they had been acting like they were dating long before kissing on the Ferris wheel) but she couldn't remember a time before Fiona. It was like trying to recall hazy memories of childhood, back before you started to grow up and life became more real and concrete and difficult. But with Fiona everything was so easy, calm, and quiet, while everyone else around them seemed so hurried.

She set aside her hot chocolate on the exposed brick ledge - it was long cold by now, since she was too wrapped up in her thoughts to pay attention to it - and hopped down from it. Taking off her glasses, she set them on the nightstand and lifted up the covers, causing Fiona to wrinkle her brow in her sleep. Carefully, very carefully, she slipped under the sheets again, snuggling right up next to her girlfriend's side. Fiona sighed, then spoke, her voice scratchy with sleep. "Why were you up?" Imogen shifted so that she was lying on top of Fiona's arm, and Fiona rubbed her back once, twice, and then stopped, too tired to continue.

"I couldn't sleep," Imogen said, her hand splayed under Fiona's shirt on her stomach, drawing lazy patterns. Fiona hummed in response, already falling asleep again. Imogen leaned forward, resting her head on Fiona's collarbone, her lips against her neck. "I love you so much," she breathed, feeling ridiculous for the way that tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, but it didn't change the way she felt.

"Love you, too. Go to sleep," Fiona murmured, and Imogen smiled, waiting out the minutes until Fiona's breathing was regular again before closing her own eyes.

She hadn't been expecting Fiona at all, but if fate really existed, it certainly did work in mysterious ways.


End file.
